


The Making of a Couple

by Lilbit903



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 07:53:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17721158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilbit903/pseuds/Lilbit903
Summary: Inspired by this prompt:Harry is the most infuriating little worm she's ever known. Now if she wasn't so damn attracted to him, Hermione would be just fine. AU where Hermione hates Harry but can't seem to stop herself from falling for him.





	The Making of a Couple

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was written for The Harmony Shag-A-Thon, hosted by the Facebook group, Harmony & Co. All canon characters, plots, dialogue, and situations from the Harry Potter series belongs to JK Rowling. I am not profiting from this work. Thanks as always to my ABSOLUTELY AMAZING BETA VINO AMORE! You rock and I love you.

Harry James Potter was the most infuriating person she had ever had the displeasure of meeting. He was arrogant, hard headed, reckless, and worst of all, he made the least amount of effort possible in class; and still excelled. It was beyond infuriating to a witch such as herself. Hermione Granger studied, she thrived on learning, books, and research. So when Harry bleeding Potter was able to perform the practical parts of a spell with barely any theory work? Well, it just made her want to punch him in his stupid pretty boy face.

  
That was another issue . It was entirely unfair for a boy to be so pretty. With his messy black hair, emerald green eyes, killer smile and a jawline that could cut marble, the boy was a walking adonis.  Not that she actually cared. So what if he was handsome? And who cared if he was even more so on a broom? And nevermind his irritating habit of calling her "luv" when he spoke to her. As if he couldn't be bothered to remember her name.    
He was a terrible flirt and seemed to think he could have any girl he wanted with merely a twitch of his eye. Because that's what it was. A twitch. She refused to call it winking. And this year it seemed he wanted her. Well, too bad for him. She refused to be a notch in his bedpost.    
  


"Ah, there she is. Hello, luv. Did you miss me?" Said the prat himself with that damned twitch as he sauntered up to her, before plopping himself down in the chair next to hers.    
  


"Like a hole in the head, Potter. I thought I told you not to call me luv?" She retorted, not bothering to give him more than a cursory glance.    
  


"Ouch, luv! Put the claws away, I simply wish to talk." Harry told her, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees while pouting slightly.    
  


Sighing, Hermione carefully marked her page and closed her book before packing it away. "I'm not interested in anything you have to say, Potter."   
Before she could walk away though, Harry's hand had encircled her wrist. She felt her breath catch involuntarily. Damn him for making butterflies flit about in her stomach with just a touch.

  
"Please, Hermione? Just five minutes? I could really use your help." The sincerity in his voice gave her pause. Allowing herself to meet his gaze, she felt her resolve give just a tiny bit.    
She'd never seen him look quite so serious, and he had called her by name instead of the ridiculous pet name.    
  


"Five minutes." She frowned, pulling her wrist free of his grasp so she could cross her arms across her chest.    
  


Harry swallowed, and she couldn't help but notice how his gaze lingered on her breasts.    
Letting out a huff she snapped, "My eyes are up here, and now you have four minutes."   
Harry shook himself and nodded abruptly.    
  


"Right. Of course. So, you see, I need help with the theory part of Transfiguration. The practical is nearly second nature, but my grasp of the full theory is iffy at best."   
  


Hermione raised a delicate brow, "And you couldn't ask McGonagall for help, why?"   
  


Harry sighed in frustration and ran his hands through his hair, mussing it more than usual.    
"Because it would seem like favoritism. At least, that's what she told me. And everyone knows you're the best in our year. Hell, probably the best in the whole bloody school. And I can't become an Auror unless I get at least an EE in Transfiguration. Please, Hermione you've got to help me."   
  


Hermione eyed him carefully. She really didn't have to help. But her Gryffindor nature demanded she stick by her house and lend a helping hand to someone in need. And judging by Harry's earnestness, he truly needed her help.    
  


Chewing her lower lip, she finally nodded. "I'll help you on one condition."   
  


Harry nodded so quickly his glasses slid down his nose, "Anything. Name it and it's yours."   
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, "It's not a material thing, Potter. If I'm going to help you; you'll behave. No more of this ridiculous flirting you attempt with me. No more calling me luv. No more commenting on my arse when I wear jeans. You will conduct yourself as a gentleman or you'll be on you own. Are we clear?"   
  


Harry frowned, unaccustomed to witches not wanting his attentions and a little insulted that she thought he was merely playing her. Not that he could blame her.   
  


Letting out a frustrated groan, he nodded. "We're clear, Hermione. But I must say your arse is truly exceptional in those jeans of yours."   
  


Hermione's face heated with a blush and she glared at him until he raised his hands in surrender. Nodding she reached into her bag for her planner. Marking the days she was available for him, she produced a copy with the Gemino charm and laid it before him.    
  


"Review your schedule and choose either two, one hour blocks, or four thirty minute blocks and we'll meet so I can help you. You can either return it to me in the common room or send it via owl."   
  


Harry smiled at her, and she grit her teeth to prevent the automatic smile that wanted to form.    
"Thank you, Hermione. Truly. I'll get this back to you straight away."Hermione nodded and walked away briskly. Harry's eyes stayed glued to her arse until she disappeared out of sight. Phase one of his plan was going off without a hitch.

 

Phase two of his plan, however was not going accordingly. He wasn't quite sure what he had done to make Hermione Granger loathe him so much, but it was infuriating. He had carefully chosen the times which they would meet, choosing the four, thirty minute option in order to see her more often, if for a shorter amount of time. Every other day they would meet in one of the library's private study rooms reserved for the sixth and seventh years preparing for their NEWTS. And at every meeting he tried to get close to her, without breaking her irritating little rules. He couldn't help but to want to flirt with her. She was gorgeous. With her cinnamon colored eyes, wild hair, pert nose and with cupid's bow lips. Not to mention her figure. He was certain many girls would kill to have a body like hers. Not that she flaunted it. No, normally she wore her baggy school robes, or her uniform which fit properly and modestly. But on Hogsmeade weekends? Well, he was certain she wore jeans just to torture him. They clung to her like a second skin and cupped her arse perfectly. They made his hands itch with the need to grip her arse and pull her close so he could snog the daylights out of her.    
  


"Focus, Potter!" Hermione's voice snapped through the room. It made him feel a tiny bit guilty. The truth was, he didn't need her assistance in the theoreticals. He knew enough to get an EE, but he couldn't figure out another way to get her to spend time with him alone. Out of the prying eyes of the rest of the school.    
  


"Sorry, Hermione. Say, don't you think it's high time you called me Harry?" He asked, hoping she didn't catch his slip of attention again.    
  


He smirked as her face flushed. He truly enjoyed the sight, the way the color travelled down her neck. He wondered if it reached her breasts.    
  


"No. It is not time for me to call you by your given name, because we are not friends. Now pay attention."    
  


Harry sat back, a little put out and stared at her. Hermione met his gaze, a frown maring her features. "What do you mean, we're not friends? Of course we are."   
  


Hermione sighed, set her quill down and leaned back in her seat. "No, we are not. We hardly ever have a civil discussion. Haven't had one since the beginning of third year, when you told me you were glad I didn't die. The few times we do talk, it's usually you using your tawdry pick up lines on me while you objectify my person. We have absolutely nothing in common, aside from our House affiliation. That's hardly enough to form a lasting friendship, Potter."   
  


Harry sighed and scratched his chin. She had a  _ few _ valid points. But Merlin, what did she expect? She was bloody brilliant, and beautiful to boot. He didn't know how to garner her attention. It wasn't as if he had a grown witch around to tell him how to do so successfully. His Godfather's advice had been to just drag her into the nearest broom cupboard, an act that would most likely ensure that his family line ended with him. His Father's advice had been to do as he had been, and it wasn't working. It was times like these he truly wished his Mother had survived the attack on their family. She would have known what to do.    
  


"Maybe... Maybe I want to be your friend, Hermione." He told her, meeting her gaze across the expanse of space.    
  


He noticed the way her breath seemed to hitch. Maybe he affected her after all. He stood, and carefully made his way towards her. Propping his arse on the table, he leaned towards her slightly.    
"Perhaps, I'd like to know you more... Intimately."   
This time, he definitely heard the startled little gasp she let out.    
  


She stood abruptly, making them nose to nose and he had to resist the urge to swoop in and kiss her.    
"That is quite enough! Honestly, if you're not going to take this seriously then do me a favor and stop wasting my time." She snapped, finger prodding him in his chest.    
  


And with that, his control broke. Reaching up swiftly, he carded his fingers through her hair, tilted her head back and slanted his mouth against hers. He was never more thankful that he had a desk helping to support him, than in that moment. She reminded him of butterbeer. Sweet and warm and it made him feel bubbly. For all of her seeming protests, she melted into him. Her hands snaked their way into his hair, while her tongue came out to tangle with his. She nipped at his bottom lip and he groaned in response. Turning swiftly, he picked her up and sat her on the table stepping between her legs as he did so. Months, hell, years of sexual tension was flaring up between them. He'd never had a hotter kiss. 

 

Pulling back slightly he was pleased to note she was breathing just as heavily as he was. Letting his lips trail along her jaw he smirked as she let out a breathy little moan. Oh she may not want to admit it, but she was well and truly affected by him. Before he could start towards her neck, with the intense desire to mark her as his witch, she placed both hands on his chest and shoved. Shocked by the turn of events, he allowed her to do so. Before he could speak a word to her though, she was gone, leaving behind all of her things and the beginnings of phase three forming in his mind.

 

He had kissed her! Harry bloody Potter had kissed her and she had liked it. She had been so shocked she had ran off without her things, foolishly leaving them with Potter. Honestly, this was what she got for trying to help someone. Especially an arrogant little prat who thought it was perfectly okay to kiss a girl while she was in the process of berating him.    
  


He was completely wasting her time. The past three study sessions seemed to be more like day dreaming sessions for him. He was distracted easily, and while he had curbed the flirting, he seemed to enjoy staring at her. It was rather creepy. At least that's what she told herself. Completely ignoring the spread of heat that flowed through her when their eyes met. She was a nearly grown witch, and there was absolutely no reason to react in such a way to him. Though judging from that kiss and the dampness between her legs, perhaps there was a reason. She shook her head to clear away the thought. No, there was no reason for her to fall for his charms. She refused to be one of his many conquests.    
  


"He's staring at you again." Came Luna Lovegood's serene voice. Glancing towards the pretty blonde, she sighed.    
  


"Well, he can just keep staring. Bloody prat." She murmured, not wanting to draw attention to their conversation lest one of Potter's fans overhear.    
Luna giggled and poked her in the ribs, causing her to squirm.    
  


"He likes you, you know. It's obvious to anyone who pays attention."   
  


Hermione rolled her eyes and took a bite of her food to avoid responding.

 

"No, honestly. You know, I heard quite a few girl's are put out with him, because he hasn't given any of them the time of day this year." Luna told her, flicking a pea off her plate and in the direction of Ronald Weasley who was currently chewing with his mouth open.    
  


"I really wouldn't know." Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes. Glancing up she was caught in the stare of Potter. It was slightly unnerving how he always managed to trap her in those green eyes. Heat seemed to be pouring off his eyes, and it wasn't entirely uncomfortable.    
  


Frowning, she turned away, made her excuses to Luna and stood to leave the Great Hall. Once she was clear of the doors, she began piling her hair up atop her head as she walked. Just as she was about to tie it off with an elastic, she was lifted from behind and dragged into a broom closet.   
A murmured locking charm could be heard, and when she was released she came face to face with Harry bleeding Potter.    
  


"Really, Potter? You can't just kidnap a witch. I assure you there are plenty of them in the Great Hall who would be more than willing to join you in a broom cupboard." She hissed, hands propped on her hips in agitation.   
  


Potter raised a single eyebrow at her, and began moving closer. Stumbling back as far as she could, she felt like a complete ninny when her back was pressed into the stone wall. And he was still advancing. Both his hands came up to rest beside her head on either side, caging her in.    
  


She tried to still the racing of her heart, certain that he could hear it in the small space.    
Holding her breath as he leaned in closer to her Hermione couldn't avoid taking in a lungful of his scent. Her knees went weak at the smell of freshly cut grass, leather, and an undertone of something smoky.   
  


His breath fanned against her face as he moved to whisper in her ear. "That may be, Hermione. But none of them are you. I tried to avoid it, you know. This craving I have for you... But after that kiss, I just want more." 

 

Then his lips were on hers again and she melted. Her fingers trailed up his chest, wound around his neck and tangled themselves in his hair.    
  


One of his large hands wound its way into her hair, the other rested at her waist. His hips pinned hers to the wall behind her, and she was only slightly embarrassed to admit that she ground her hips against him. She felt a tingle of pleasure race straight to her core everytime she brushed against his obvious erection.    
  


At that point she didn't care that he was a prat. She didn't care that he had probably slept his way through their yearmates. She could not care less about the fact that he was sometimes lazy and entitled. She didn't care about anything but the way his lips felt against hers.    
  


Breaking the kiss she felt his lips work their way across her jaw and down and neck as her back bowed closer to him. She moaned when he brushed across a particularly sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. And she nearly collapsed when he began to suckle there, no doubt leaving a mark. She yanked his hair sharply and hissed when the hand on her waist dipped lower, before sliding up under her school skirt to grip her arse.    
  


"I dream about this, you know? About kissing you. Holding your fantastic arse." His hand squeezed against her and she moaned lightly. Merlin it had been too long since she'd allowed a boy to touch her in such a way.    
His head dipped to her breasts and she gasped in surprise when he nipped at her through her school shirt. His voice was raspy as he spoke against her chest. "And these tits. Merlin, do you know how crazy you make me with them? I've wanted you for years, Hermione. Years."    
  


Hermione felt a twinge of something in her chest at his confession. It was confusing. But before she could say so, his hand and moved from her hair to her shirt, deftly undoing the buttons. Then his lips were on her nipples, teasing and suckling. His hand toying with one nipple while he sucked firmly on the other. It was tantalizing, she couldn't help the breathy moans and gasps that flowed from her. This feeling he unleashed made her feel wild and free as she let one of her hands drift down his back. When the hand gripping her arse moved to brush the front of her knickers, she shamelessly rocked her hips against them.   
  


Harry groaned in response and began trailing kisses back up to her ear. "I bet you want me to touch you, don't you. Want me to douse this fire between your legs and give you that sweet relief. And I will, Hermione. I promise you that. But not until you're positively begging for it. Not until you're as crazy for it as I am. Only then, when I put us both out of our misery."    
  


Hermione whimpered in dismay when he pulled away, his hands quickly redoing the buttons of her shirt. Glaring at him she spat out, "You're a right bastard!"    
  


His only response was a chuckle and a brief kiss to her lips. "What's to stop me from seeking relief elsewhere? Hmmm Potter?" She taunted, beyond ticked and horny to boot.    
He was on her in an instant, "Because, Hermione," stressing her name, "You are my witch, whether you see it or not. And even if you don't see it, every other male in this school does. Why do you think not a single wizard in this bloody school has approached you since fifth year?"    
  


Hermione's mouth dropped open. Fifth year? He'd apparently placed a claim on her during fifth year and all of the other bloody prats in this school allowed it! That was just the limit. She shoved at his chest hard enough to make him stumble. Sparks raced through her curls, making them appear even wilder. She advanced on him, poking a finger in his chest with every other word.    
"How. Bloody. Dare. You! I am not a piece of property for you to claim, Harry James Potter! If you were really that interested, you should have actually pursued me instead of shagging your way through the bloody school!" She shouted, before brandishing her wand righting her clothes with a simple spell, and cancelling the locking charm on the closet before stalking away from him.

  
He glared after her. Stubborn fucking witch. She wanted him to pursue her, huh? Well, pursue her he shall.

 

Hermione was obviously avoiding him, but she was also trying his bloody patience. For the first time in years, the witch had started putting effort into her appearance. She barely wore makeup, but lately he'd noticed she'd started wearing lipgloss. Her hair had been tamed, and while he missed the wild curls, he had to admit they looked good falling down her back brushing above her arse. Her shirts seemed tighter, while her skirts seemed shorter. She was torturing him.

 

What was worse was the way she'd begun to flirt with the other wizards in the school. He mostly kept himself in the background of any such interaction, settling himself to glaring at whichever boy she was trying to entertain. As soon as she noticed him, she'd glare and storm off in a huff. But today was different. Today she wasn't flirting with one of the boys who were easily intimidated. No, today she was leaning across Theo Nott at a table in the library. One hand was playing with her curls, while the other was tracing across the other boys fingers.    
  


He felt a flare of annoyance surge through him to see his witch flirting so blatantly with another wizard. He'd thought it cute at first, but now, it simply made him want to take her over his knee, before he took her on her knees. Stepping close behind her, he placed one hand on her hip and the other on the table beside her. Meeting Nott's gaze he frowned at the boy.    
  


"I didn't take you for one to encroach on another wizard's witch, Nott."   
  


"To hear her tell it, she's not your witch, Potter." Theo smirked.   
  


Hermione huffed and tried to move away from him but he tightened his grip slightly in warning.    
"Let me go, Potter. As I've already said, I am not some property for you to claim." She snapped.    
Harry watched as Theo leaned back in his seat with a smirk on his face. This was not good. If Theo spread it around that Hermione didn't want him, he'd never be able to get her to agree to be his witch, much less keep the others off of her. 

  
Sending a glare Nott's way, he tugged on Hermione's hand and began dragging her from the library. He counted himself lucky that she didn't fight him. But then again, she wouldn't want to make a scene in the library of all places.    
To her credit she refrained from asking him anything until they were on the seventh floor corridor where the Room of Requirement was located. He debated letting her hand go so he could open the room.

  
"What are we doing here?" Hermione huffed, annoyed by his antics.    
  


"Talking." He replied shortly. He had no doubt if he let her go, she'd storm off. Smirking, he turned her towards him abruptly, kneeled and hefted her over his shoulder, one arm tightly banded around her thighs.    
  


She let out an undignified squeak.   
  


"Damn you, Potter! Put me down! This instant!" She shouted, using her fists to bang on his back. 

  
"Not a chance sweetheart." He chuckled, before doing the required paces to open the Room of Requirement. The room opened to a space that looked identical to the Gryffindor Common room. Walking to the couch in front of the fireplace, he sat her down rather abruptly.    
  


She glared up at him, barely taking in the appearance of the room. She made to stand and he gently pushed her back down.    
  


"No. We're going to sit here, and we're going to talk." Harry told her, frowning and crossing his arms.    
  


"I don't have to listen to you, Potter!" She snarled, and he thought it was probably wrong of him to find her more attractive when she was irritated with him.    
  


He sat next to her without saying a word, and before he could think better of it, pulled her into his lap. Gripping her hands in one of his when she went to hit him, he sighed. Why did she make things so much more complicated than need be. 

  
"Enough, Hermione!" His voice was sharp, and enough to give her pause. "What are you so upset about? Hmm, the fact I made my intentions clear to any male in this school, or the fact I didn't immediately tell you?"    
  


"Both! If you wanted to date me, you should have said. Instead of being a completely arrogant prat and just assuming because you said it, it was law. I'm not some piece of land you can plant a flag on and claim!" She hissed with a frown.   
  


"Maybe you're right! But, how else was I supposed to get your attention? You went out with other blokes during fifth year, and ignored every single one of my offers for Hogsmeade. I did what I had to do in order to give myself a chance with you!" He nearly shouted. He frowned at her, honestly for one of the brightest witches he knew, she could be quite dim sometimes.    
  


"Oh, so flaunting around your little tarts was to get my attention? Running around breaking rules left and right and losing the house points I earned? Or-or- how about snickering with Weasley over my hair or my teeth, hmm?" She snarled, making a move to rise again.    
  


Growling in annoyance he grabbed her round the waist and turned her to face him. Immediately she began squirming to get free. Tightening his grip on her he began slowly counting to ten, in the hopes that he could calm his body's reaction.    
  


"Sit still, Hermione. I was a prat, okay? I know it, you know it, I'm pretty sure the entire school knows it. But damnit, since fourth year I've been crazy over you." He cupped her cheek to meet her gaze. "Don't you get it, you silly girl? It's you, it’s always been you. Even when I was fucking those other girls, trying to forget you, I never could. You're under my skin, like an itch I can't scratch no matter how hard I try." He let his hand slide into her hair, "You expose all of the tender parts of me and it scares the living hell out of me. Makes me react like a bloody idiot instead of telling you how I feel. But damn it, Hermione I'm in love with you and have been for years. I was too stupid to tell you and too stubborn to show you."   
  


Before she could respond, he kissed her. Letting his tongue entwine with hers he tried his damndest to let her know how he felt with the force of his kiss. To his surprise, she melted into him. Her hands found their way into his hair and she kissed him back vigorously. He let one hand drift to her hip, the other still clutching her hair.    
  


Harry suppressed a grin when he heard her moan softly, and nearly passed out when she ground against his erection. This is what he'd been dreaming of since he was thirteen. This witch, was everything to him.    
  


Moving his hand under the hemline of her shirt he let out a groan at the feel of her silky smooth skin. One of her hands had drifted down to his school uniform and she began deftly undoing the buttons. He let her, adjusting himself to remove the offending material. She pulled back some and looked at him with smoldering eyes.    
  


"You're a prat. An irritating, arrogant arse nearly all of the time. But, and it's a big but, if you're serious about this. About us, I'm willing to give you a chance." Hermione told him, meeting his eyes.    
"I've never been more serious about anything in my life, Hermione. And you may not feel the same yet, but I do love you." He told her, letting every ounce of sincerity bleed into his voice.    
  


Then, he was on her. Flipping her onto the couch beneath him he began kissing her again, one hand trailing up and down her thigh while the other began undoing her tie. Hermione arched into his touch, little moans escaping as he trailed kisses down her neck. Harry grinned against the column of her throat and began leaving several large hickeys on the pale skin there. His witch. 

 

Hermione hissed and let her sharp nails rake down his back in retaliation. Damn prat. Grinding up against him, she let out a hiss when he began to suckle on her nipples. It felt even better than the last time. It was a startling revelation for her to know that it wasn't just a one off reaction to him. That he could make her feel this way, and then make it better. 

 

She let her hands drift towards his pants and quickly unfasten the button and shove them and his underwear off his hips. Her hand grasped his cock and began to stroke it slowly in time with the sucks that he delivered to her chest. Smirking when he hissed and pulled back when she twisted her hand over the sensitive head. He looked good like this, not nearly as arrogant as usual. 

 

It was her turn to gasp when he thrust a finger into her wet heat making her hips buck into him. 

“This is mine now, Hermione. You're mine now, and it'll be a cold day in hell before I ever let you go.” Harry told her thrusting his finger more firmly and brushing her clit with his thumb. 

She groaned and threw her head back at the onslaught of sensation. Gods, but he was a tease. 

“Only if this is mine too.” She snarled, gripping his cock more firmly and beginning to stroke faster. 

Harry grinned down at her, removed his finger and quickly grasped both of her wrists in one hand. Leveraging them over her head he thrust into her in one smooth motion. 

 

“Always, luv. Always.” 

 

They thrust against one another then. Lips meeting in a tangle of teeth and tongue. Harry slipped one hand between them and strummed her clit as Hermione broke the kiss to let out a scream as she came. Several long thrusts later and Harry was emptying himself inside her. 

 

He laid his head on her chest out of breath and utterly boneless. Glancing up, he was pleased to note that she was in much the same state. Placing a gentle kiss to her breast he rolled to the side and landed with a huff of air on the floor. 

 

Hermione barely glanced at him before sitting up and conjuring a towel to clean herself with. 

 

“Suppose you'll leave me alone now, hm.” She murmured not meeting his eyes. 

 

Harry was up on his knees before her in an instant. “Like hell. I meant it, Hermione. You're mine and I'm yours. I'm not giving you up without a fight no matter what it takes, I'll prove it to you. I want you, for now and for always.” He told her gripping her face between his hands. 

 

She met his eyes and nodded shakily before whispering, “Okay.” She kissed his lips and murmured, “I believe you Harry. I'm yours.” 

 

Sitting in the Room of Requirement with their foreheads pressed against one anothers, they began the rest of their lives together. 


End file.
